At times, I could deflect
                           The bullets from a 
Magnum aimed at your heart.../

At times, I could be shootin'....

With the lines
Disappearing
Between pleasure and pain
With love and hate
Becoming one and the same
As I suffer the orgasms
And enjoy all the pain
It's all insane
Or is it
You?

Out of the blue, I just seemed to notice you,
Acquiring a love I'd call true....
Sometime I feel so good,
It hurts...
Sometimes I feel so bad,
I have to dream of you.

A charge
To keep me
From freezing in the heat

A relic
To keep me
Staring at your face

A vail
To keep me
From looking past reflections

An instinct
To keep me
In the human race

He keeps a constant
Wound in hip
Pocket to be pulled
Out in case it gets too
Comfortable/
He keeps a constant
Guffaw in thigh
Knee to be slap
Laugh in case it gets too
Unbearable

Afflicted with pernicious anemia,
He salivates at the sight of blood;
Suffering from porphyria,
His nails and teeth glow green
Phosphorescent in the moon-lit night.

Because he does not speak of his diseases,
Those with whom he shares his nocturnal wanderings
Began to associate him with those mythical creatures
Who are said to have an immortalizing bite.
Though they still see him,
They now take precautionary measures
And he finds the garlic in their breath repulsive.

You might think that we're awfully bold
But we got things that gotta be told
Can't hide our feeling in an old cedar chest
Sit around here and act like your guests
'Cause we got feelings for the both of you
We got each other but we like you too
Hope you'll like us and will feel free
To join us in harmony....

Let's talk of things that are real
Well there's a universal spirit that we all feel
It flows through us all, each the same
And we could be one if we stop playing games
So if you put out your hand, I'll give you mine
And past our fears, we shall all climb
Into the sunshine of our hearts
Into to truth from which all being starts.

Seventy red capsules in a bottle
Smile at him;
Suicide is his companion
Who comforts him in the winter
With warm whispers of power:

  "You can master the season,
   You can have the final word
   From my lips
   You can kiss
   You are welcome in my, womb."

And when he feels beaten,
He sees her
And embraces her kiss
One capsule at a time;

But when he really needs her
He talks to her on the phone
Determined to keep the relationship platonic.

It's recently occurred to me that the 80's may easily come to be known as the digital decade...seems to be a major preoccupation of the times...not just in technology...but in common everyday life...this re-articulation of the old yin yang into philosophically "clear and distinct" on/off ideas... and since it is one of the functions of art to reflect the times... there's all this talk about how art in the 80's should have something to do with digitalization...

Henry Miller once said that "the function of art is to inoculate the world with disillusion...." My id once told me that "the function of art is to fuck with illusion till you come to some kind of resolution...." Determined to keep the relationship platonic.

There's an orbit-bit-bit an orbit
And it absorbs me bit by bit absorbs me
it's an orbit-bit-bit an orbit
"Round a heart beat...your heart beat....

Though I have fear in my own heart
I've got romance in my brain
And those rockets in my loins
Are drivin' me insane
So I nose down for a dive
And tune in to your beat
A heat seeking missile
That knows no retreat
With a kamikazes will
All systems are go
As retros are reversed
For a total throttle flow
Down to a lake bed...your lake bed....

As I crash into your waves
My concentration implodes
From the point on the tip
Of the head to the tip
Of the molecule on its tip
To the atom on its tip
To its nucleus as it fuses into yours...

Mushroom cloud...no one dies